


Chaos in the Ballroom

by YumeHanabi



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: Agria coming to terms with her past, Canon-Typical Violence, First Person POV (Agria), Foul Language, Found Family, Fractured Dimensions, Gen, Humor, Past Abuse, Past Animal Abuse, Side Material-Compliant, The Chimeriad Lives AU, petty revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22942267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YumeHanabi/pseuds/YumeHanabi
Summary: Fractured dimensions. Worlds of endless possibilities. To some, they are an occasion to reunite briefly with loved ones. To Agria, standing face-to-face with the people she hates the most, they are like a cruel prank bringing up a past best forgotten. But perhaps they are also an opportunity to move on. Because, this time, she is not facing them alone.
Relationships: Agria & Chimeriad
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5
Collections: Tales Big Bang 2020





	Chaos in the Ballroom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iya_teiva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iya_teiva/gifts).



> Here is my contribution to the Tales Big Bang 2020 :)
> 
> This is set in an AU where the Chimeriad survived and went on to be included in the party for the events of the second game. They, too, stumble upon dimensions that are far too personal. This is Agria's side.
> 
>  **A note about terms:** capitals of the Six Houses' territories are named after their full last names, so the city housing the Travis family would be called Lalla Travis. To stay consistent with that naming theme, I've opted to keep the original "Il Fan" over the localized "Fennmont." 
> 
> Many thanks for my Big Bang artist for the wonderful artwork (see link at the end.)

## Act I - Infiltration

Wooosh.

Ugh, I really hate the feeling of getting dragged to another dimension. It’s like some external force is pulling me in all directions. I feel like I’m gonna lose my balance. It reminds me of my first wyvern flight, but that’s not something I want to remember right now. For the record, this is not my first time in a fractured dimension; I went with Ludger and Presa the other day. It was pretty funny though. We met Pimple and she was all shocked, as if she’d just seen a ghost. Well, she kinda had—since apparently I had died in that dimension. Hah! Me, dying? As if!

“So, where are we?” Presa asks. She looks like she’s completely fine, but she can’t fool me. I saw the way she nearly lost her balance when we appeared here. Guess high heels are not that practical for inter-dimensional travel, huh?

“This is a town I have never seen before,” Wingul answers. “Probably Rashugal, considering the architecture.” Analytical as ever.

Ludger mumbles something about coordinates, but I’m already not listening anymore, because a quick glance around has told me everything I need to know. Damn it…

“Lalla Travis.”

“What?”

“Town’s name’s Lalla Travis,” I repeat. Presa’s watching me intently. She knows what it means. “Home of the most prestigious House Travis of Rashugal.”

“Wait, Travis.” Jiao says. He’s catching up too. “Isn’t that…”

Wingul is looking at me with this calculating look he takes when he’s thinking up of a plan. I’m not sure I like that, but given the circumstances, I wouldn’t mind letting him decide what to do. The faster we can get out of here the better.

“The divergence catalyst must be somewhere in this town, if this is where the coordinates led us.” He finally says. “We should look for differences with our dimension, starting with what is more likely to represent a big change. Like the town’s governance, for example.”

He doesn’t say it directly, but I know what the bastard is implying. Does House Travis still stand here? That’s the first thing we should check.

Okay, fine. “Just follow me.”

I don’t even look back to check if they’re behind me. It’s been years, yet my feet still take me easily to the right direction. Well, it wouldn’t be too hard anyway—we landed on the main square, now we just have to follow the main avenue up the hill to find the manor. On the way, I get to rediscover many familiar sights. There’s that tree that got struck down by lightning during a storm four years ago. It’s weird no one has thought to replace it yet. Ooh, and there’s my favorite bakery. Man, that smell brings back memories. Prinn used to bring me croissants from here every time she had to run errands in town. I wonder if it still exists in the prime… Well, since those pastries are not giving off catalyst vibes, I guess it does? Maybe I should check when we go back. I bet His Highness would love the chocolate-filled ones.

Seems like the hike’s already too much for Elle, because she’s begging Ludger to carry her. It’s Jiao who picks her up, though. “Who decided to build a house on top of a hill?” she complains, rejecting the fault of her poor endurance on the manor’s owners. Honestly, I can’t really fault her.

“Dumb nobles who can’t set foot outside without having their horses do all the work for them.”

Presa’s glare is telling me not to insult people in front of the kid. Whatever. I’m not lying, anyway. I don’t think Magdalena’s feet ever touched the pavement past the manor’s gate. Didn’t she use to have this fancy gold-and-ivory coach? Good people of Lalla Travis, this is what your taxes were financing. Haven’t I done you a favor by getting rid of all those greedy pigs?

“Oooh, this house is _huge_ ,” Elle suddenly quips.

I can’t see it yet, but I guess Jiao’s shoulders offer a better vantage point. This doesn’t bode well, though. The place’s supposed to be a pile of ashes. Ah, there we are. Yup, still intact. Fuck.

“Well, here’s your difference,” I tell Wingul. “I burned that place down three years ago.”

“Why would you do that!?”

Ah crap, I forgot about the kid. Fortunately, Presa’s there to provide excuses. “So they could rebuild it prettier.” It’s a lie, but it’s probably best to spare the girl the gruesome details.

“I wanna see! Ludger, let’s come here in the prime dimension!”

“Maybe, if we have time…”

“We should go in and investigate,” Wingul says, but I stop him.

“Wait. I’ll go alone.”

Of course, they don’t agree. I know we need Ludger to check for the catalyst, but for some reason, I don’t think it’s wise to barge in all at once when we don’t know what the situation is.

“I’ll just have quick a look around to see who’s there! Wait for me at the inn down the street, I’ll be back soon.” Wingul’s eyeing me suspiciously, so I add: “I promise I won’t destroy anything. Come on, you know I’m the best suited here for a reconnaissance mission.”

Reluctantly, they agree to let me go first, and we part ways at the gate. Sneaking into the courtyard is easy, and I weigh my options. Manor or annex? Manor is riskier, but on the other hand I might run into my other self in the annex, and that would complicate things. Aah, what to do…

“Nadia!?”

Aw shoot, I stayed exposed too long. The voice came from the manor’s first floor window, and a man is moving away from it, probably in direction of the door.

The man, it turns out, is none other than dear brother Aurignac. Here’s our catalyst candidate number one. He looks as displeased to see me as the last time we met. Brilliant.

“What are you doing there? After we graciously helped you enroll in the prestigious Talim school, don’t tell me you are already skipping classes!?”

Ah, so fractured me is away. Good. Wait, what was that about Talim school?

“What happened to your hair?” He looks at me like he’s just seen an ugly bug. Gee, thanks. “And what’s that ridiculous outfit? Don’t tell me you’re wearing that at school?”

“It’s the latest fashion.” In Elympios, but he doesn’t need to know that. “And I wear my uniform at school, so don’t worry about me ruining your reputation or something.”

“I hope for you that you are telling the truth. Well, no matter. Since you are here, I expect you to put on your best behavior for tonight’s ball.”

Should I roast him now, or not? …Hang on, a ball? Oh please no.

“I don’t have to attend, you know,” I argue. “I wasn’t supposed to come back this early anyway.”

There it is again, this look that says that he would like nothing more than for me to disappear from his life. Roast, or not…?

“You know how Father is. He insisted you attend every ball. As if you had a legitimate reason to be there… Anyway, I don’t want to hear him complain I didn’t tell you about it, so you’d better show up for at least five minutes. Just don’t draw attention to yourself.”

Aw, the old man’s still alive too. Catalyst candidate number two.

“Now go get ready.” He’s gesturing toward the annex, urging me to get changed into something more appropriate for a ball. I guess I could go have a look around.

“The usual time?” I ask to confirm. He nods and then turns back toward the manor without a word. Okay.

The annex is just as I remember it. The maids are as rude as I remember them, too. Is there anyone in this house who’s not a jerk? Seriously! On the way to my bedroom, I stop by mom’s suite and have a peek inside, for old time’s sake.

I don’t know what I was expecting. We’re in a fractured dimension, anything is possible. So, of course, she’s alive here. How could she not be, if all the others are? Catalyst candidate… No, it can’t be her. Come on, there’s half a dozen assholes that could be a good fit in the manor, why would it be her? It makes no sense. Please, don’t be the catalyst. I don’t want to see you die again...

She’s sitting by the window reading a book, looking exactly as beautiful as the last time I saw her. She looks healthy enough. I wonder what exactly changed here for her to still be there… It’s not like the rest of the family would have been kinder to her—Aurignac dashed that hope the moment he opened his mouth in the courtyard.

I close the door as silently as possible so as not to disturb her and walk up to my room. Just seeing her was enough. She’d only worry if she saw me. She’s going to disappear anyway. Seeing her was enough.

My bedroom… is not exactly as I remember it. I was still a kid when I left, but other me has lived here for five more years, and she’s redecorated to account for more mature tastes. It’s a bit too flowery for me, but I can see why she’d like that stuff. Bobo’s there, which is a nice surprise. I thought she’d have taken it along to Talim? Or maybe he’s just resting here after delivering a message to mom? I give him a few treats, and he chirps happily. Good boy, he’s recognizing me.

What should I do now? Sneak out and report to the others? But I don’t really have anything significant to report. There are too many differences, which is making it really hard to pinpoint who the catalyst could be. We’d need to have Ludger get close to each of them. This is gonna be a huge bother. Although… I don’t want to go to their stupid party, but on the other hand, everyone will be gathered in the same room tonight. If that’s not our best chance, I don’t know what it is.

Miss Nadia’s closet is full of pretty dresses, and I’m almost jealous. I stopped caring about my appearance a long time ago, but I must admit I miss it a bit. Not the balls, but the dresses. They made me feel pretty. I was so naive back then…

I ring the service bell to call a maid. In comes another familiar face. What was her name again? Celine? Celestine? Something ending in “-ine”… Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Wait, should I include maids in the potential catalysts list? I’m pretty sure she burned in the fire too.

“What is it, milady?” The words are polite, but the tone is anything but.

“What dress did I wear at the last ball?” I ask, gesturing at the closet rack reserved for party wear.

Her face twitches. “You can’t even remember that? How brainless are you?”

Hey now! Other me would have known. I’m just not her. Okay, how does Presa do that shit again…?

“I knowww, I’m such an airhead. Please, you have to help me! Lady Roberta will be soooo angry if I wear the same one twice in a row. Pretty please with sugar on top?” Wow, I’m such a good actress.

She can’t suppress a laugh, but nonetheless complies. “You wore that one last time.” She points to a red cocktail dress with lacy flowers embroidered. Then, perhaps taking pity on me, shows me a lavender satin ball gown. “You haven’t worn this one in a while.”

I let her go, but she gives me one final warning before she leaves. “A delegation from Auj Oule will be attending tonight. Don’t make a fool of yourself and embarrass your good family name.”

I sit down at my desk and consider the next step. I think we should infiltrate the ball tonight; I’m pretty sure that’s what Wingul would plan anyway. Have Ludger meet every member of this spirit-forsaken household. I can help with the introductions, I suppose. Destroy the catalyst as soon as we find it and get out of here asap. Sounds like a plan. Now to report to them about my findings…

Bobo’s hopped down from his perch to my desk and is trying to play with my hoodie laces. I scritch his head pensively. Would this work?

“Sugar-bo, do you think you could deliver a note to someone you’ve never met?”

_Chirp._

“You can? Good boy!”

It’s a long shot, but Bobo’s smart, and he’s my best option right now. I take out a notepad and a pen and write a few words for Wingul.

_‘Undeads everywhere! I don’t know who’s the best candidate. They’re hosting a ball tonight, even invited some delegation from Auj Oule. Find a way to get in.’_

I fold the note and fetch Bobo’s message tube. I give him the best description of Presa I can come up with while attaching it to his leg. I’m not sure he can understand me, but it doesn’t hurt to try, does it?

Now all that’s left to do is wait and get ready for the ball. I pick the red dress from the closet and head to the bathroom.

The bath was nice, and another—friendlier—maid helped me put on make-up, so now I’m all set. This dress looks almost too good on me. Fractured me chose it well. It’s slightly too large for me, but a belt solved that problem quickly. I stuff my clothes in a purse so I can keep them near for when we leave. The fancy dress is nice, but I’m rather fond of that hoodie. As I’m rolling it up, my GHS falls from its pocket. Oh! My GHS! I’d completely forgotten about that thing! Poor Bobo, I sent him out for nothing. I quickly send Presa a text.

_‘Did Bobo reach you? We’re having a party here.’_

Her reply was immediate.

_‘I was wondering why you’d sent him instead of calling… Yes, we got your message. Wingul is currently negotiating us a spot within the Auj Oulian delegation.’_

Which, knowing him, is probably involving more ‘ordering’ than ‘negotiating’. But that’s fine. All the pieces are falling into place, as he’d say.

  


* * *

## Act II - The Ball

I try not to come too early to be able to blend with the crowd, but I still end up running into Roberta in the corridor. And unfortunately for me, my foul mouth is faster than my brain.

“Wow, you actually got fatter.”

SMACK.

Ow, that stings. Still, I probably deserved that one.

“You ungrateful brat. Did your harlot of a mother teach you no manner? How can you come to our house and disrespect me so!?”

Bitch, don’t insult my mom, or we’ll find out how funny your screams sound when you’re burning to death.

“I’m sorry, Lady Roberta,” I bow in fake apology, taking a few steps backward. “I won’t do it again, Lady Roberta.”

I dart out to the ball room before I get a chance to ruin our whole plan. She’s shrieking something about my dress, but I’m already too far to hear. Can she be the catalyst? Please be the catalyst.

A lot of guests are already there. I recognize many faces, especially the regulars who were always there from start to finish. Roberta might be a salty bitch, but her parties were always hugely popular among the Rashugal nobility. And now she’s even trying to corrupt citizens of Auj Oule—who haven’t arrived yet, by the way.

“Lady Nadia, you look as stunning as the last time we met.”

Who’s the fool who’s daring enough to compliment me on Roberta’s turf? I turn around and come face-to-face with a way too familiar old man.

“Gramps!?” Shit, stupid mouth. What’s the proper term of address again? Man, it’s been too long. “I-I mean, Sir Ilbert.” Bow. Don’t forget to bow. Prettily, holding your dress with both hands.

Fortunately, the old fart isn’t the type to take offense to my clumsy greeting, fractured dimension or not. In fact, his eyes are positively twinkling. “Please, call me Rowen. Although ‘Gramps’ does have a nice ring to it.”

What is he even doing here? Did he use to come to these balls? Is that why he recognized me when we met in Il Fan? I don’t remem…ber… oh… wait… waaaaaaait. Don’t tell me… That old gentleman who was so kind to me when I was a kid… Could it be…? Oh damn, it totally fits! Wow. One of the greatest mysteries of my life has just been solved, and the ball hasn’t even started yet!

“I am glad to see you look in high spirits tonight.”

Gramps, you have no idea. I absolutely need to see him when we go back to the prime dimension.

The arrival of the Auj Oule guests distract me from my newfound revelation. Faustine wasn’t kidding when she said ‘delegation’—I count at least a dozen people, including Presa and the others, as she promised. Among this dimension’s people, I can recognize a few officers, the Cheagle tribe chief, the Kitarl guy who takes care of wyverns, and that advisor who always drones on about crops during councils. They’re all dressed pretty fancily, in Rashugal fashion. Including Presa and the others. Where did they even get those outfits? Ooh, I bet Wingul is behind it. That sounds like a Wingul thing. The only one who stands out is Jiao, and probably more because of his bright yellow Kitarl coat than his size. Poor dude probably couldn’t find anything that fits. Roberta is going to have a heart attack when she sees how he clashes with her aesthetic.

Introductions are made, and it isn’t long before the festivities are officially started. I walk up to Ludger, who looks like he has no idea what he’s gotten into. Elle is looking around with stars in her eyes.

“So what’s up?”

“Ah, Agria.” He looks relieved to see me. “Wingul said I should just try to approach as many people as possible while you distract your family.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll introduce you to my dad and his wife; the others you can just walk up to them, say hello and leave. What’s the cover story?” Wingul always had a cover story.

“The people from Auj Oule recognized Wingul and Jiao, so Wingul pulled rank on them and acted like he’d been invited all along. He convinced the head of the Cheagle tribe to pass the rest of us off as his children—he said we were on an important intelligence mission and we needed a cover.”

“And he bought it?”

“He was happy to play along. Wingul seems to have a lot of authority in this dimension as well.”

All right, makes sense. I lead them to the queue of guests waiting to greet the party’s hosts, and try to answer Elle’s excited questions as best as I can while we wait. Soon we find ourselves before them.

“Lord and Lady Travis, allow me to introduce you to Ludger Cheagle, heir of the Cheagle clan of Auj Oule, and his little sister, Elle.” See? I can do proper introductions when I want.

Dad is smiling at me, and for a moment I feel a sting in my chest. Poor foolish old man. He’s even scrawnier than before. Roberta, on the other hand, is glaring at me in a way that says I’m in big trouble, but her demeanor changes completely when she turns to Ludger. Ugh, I’d forgotten she had a thing for younger men. Sadly, she doesn’t start glowing darkly when she grips his hand (ewww, poor Ludger). Neither does Dad, so that’s a comfort at least. But we’re back to square one.

“Let’s split up,” I tell Ludger once we manage to take some distance, “it looks suspicious when you spend too much time with a single person at those events.”

“Okay.”

“You know what to do?”

“Walk up to people, say hello, leave,” he repeats my words from earlier. “I can do that.”

“Leave it to us!” Elle pipes in.

“Good.” I offer my hand for a fist bump. “See you soon.” Ludger taps his knuckles against mine and we head to different directions.

I’m thinking of talking to this dimension’s Rowen some more, but he’s already engaged in conversation with bro number two—Gravett—aka that pompous snob who liked to pretend I didn’t exist. He must have graduated the military academy by now. He’d always wanted to become a famous strategist like the Conductor, so Rowen must be like his idol. He’s currently bragging about some of his accomplishments—I don’t really know what, I missed the beginning. Wingul is standing a few feet to his right, listening intently.

“…so I had my troops surround the castle and cut off their supply lines. We built fortifications all around while waiting for reinforcements.”

“Boring.”

Gravett turns to Wingul so fast his head is probably spinning now. I wish I could see his expression. “ _Excuse me?_ ”

“Anyone could come up with such a basic strategy.” Wingul takes a few steps forward, his eyes fixed on my dumbstruck half-brother. “A prolonged siege. In other words, a waste of time and resources. A skilled tactician would have seized that castle before the thought of waiting for reinforcement had even crossed his mind.”

“As if you could do better…” Gravy sounds extremely offended. Oh, this is hilarious.

“As a matter of fact, I could.”

Rowen steps in, amused. “Is that so? Would you care to share your thoughts, then?”

“Certainly. However, that would require sharing information about said castle’s situation. I am sure you will agree with me that strategizing without proper intel amounts to waving a stick in the dark hoping it eventually connects with something. Ah, but where are my manners…” He bows deeply, his voice even and pleasant. “My name is Wingul. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Conductor Ilbert.”

Gramps’ eyes widen in recognition. “My, the Ebon Wing of Auj Oule himself? Stories of your feats have traveled far, even to my corner of Rashugal. I had always hoped to meet you.”

Gravy tries to interject something, but they’re too busy exchanging pleasantries to pay attention to him. I gesture to Ludger to come by, and he shakes my brother’s hand vigorously before disappearing back into the crowd. No reaction.

By the time Gravett turns back to the two geniuses, they are enthusiastically discussing strategies and don’t have so much of a look to spare for him.

“What are you cackling about?” comes Presa’s voice from behind me. “You’re going to bring attention to yourself.”

She’s holding a flute of champagne and looking gorgeous in her fancy attire. As always, she dresses with style. Tonight’s outfit is a long dark-blue dress which emphasizes her shapes without revealing too much. Tame enough not to hurt Roberta’s sensibilities, alluring enough to make guys’ heads turn as she walks past them. Nice.

“Snob’s getting snubbed,” I explain, pointing to the scene before us. “I’ve never seen Gravett with such a sour expression on his face, and that includes the time we wiped out his platoon.”

“Oh, Wingul…” She sighs. Then giggles. “We heard that guy badmouth your choice of dress to his sister earlier.”

“Wingul’s doing it on purpose?” Now that you mention it, the way he’s subtly positioning his body to block out Gravett… A great strategist indeed. Thanks boss, I owe you one.

A loud, obnoxious laugh turn our attention to the other side of the room.

“Speaking of my half-sister…”

I picture the scene even before I see it. She’s surrounded by her flock of admirers, arms around her favorite of the day, laughing hysterically at some joke one of them most likely told. She doesn’t look very different than last time.

Presa’s eyes are narrowed on her, critical. “No one needs so many layers of foundation. And those colors absolutely clash. What was she thinking?”

“When I was little, I used to wonder what her face really looked like,” I remember. “She’s always been caked in excessive make-up as far as my memory goes.”

“I almost feel sorry for her.”

I snort. “Don’t. It’s a waste of feelings.”

“The guys…” she asks.

“A bunch of dumbasses hoping to move up the social ladder.”

She nods in understanding.

“They can get violent, though,” I add seriously. Bitter memories are threatening to flood back. Presa’s hand falls on my shoulder and gives a little squeeze.

“What would you say to having a little fun with them?”

“Oh?” I grin. “You know I’m always up for fun.”

“How many do you think I can get away from her in five minutes?”

I lick my lips in consideration. While I’m ready to bet on a good chunk of them without hesitation, Magdalena’s beau-of-the-night is a new face. I don’t know how easy it would be to sway him.

“How about all of them?” I finally decide.

Her returning smile is positively predatory. “Watch me.”

“Hang on, I’ll set a timer on my GHS.”

I fish the device out of my purse and press the buttons until I find the setting I need. We get a bit closer to them, so I can listen.

“Ready? Go!” I start the timer.

Presa’s gait transforms with each step she takes toward them as she slips into her role. Tonight’s persona is an old favorite of hers—what she calls the “helpless damsel.” Eyes widened, pouting lips, a slightly trembling voice. Dumb questions and shallow praises only. Men usually dig that stuff; it makes them feel important. You convince them you’re the prettiest, most vapid woman in the world, stroke their ego, and when they confidently lower their guard around you, that’s when you kick their asses into next week. Rashugal nobility is especially weak to that stuff. And as it turns out, Presa is an absolute star in that role. I actually once tried to practice that one with her, back when we were doing spy work in Il Fan, but she said it just made me look like a disgruntled cat.

The effect is almost immediate. Out of the nine men surrounding Magdalena, three already have their eyes on Presa before she reaches them. She starts by greeting the host, showering her with the most insincere compliments I’ve ever heard, but the act is so convincing Maggy almost blushes under her make-up.

_One minute._

Those who first noticed her ask her to introduce herself. Her cover story as a tribe chief’s eldest daughter gives her legitimacy in their power-hungry eyes (if they knew how minor the Cheagle tribe actually is… hah!), and a fourth now looks at her with calculated interest.

_Two minutes._

She asks a fifth about his military career—how did she pick that up in so little time?—and seals the deal with well-chosen words of admiration. That’s over half of them. Magdalena’s smile is frozen, as if she is unsure of what to make of this new queen encroaching her territory. How long before she realizes the meek little kitten is a lioness in disguise?

_Three minutes._

A calculated clumsy step, the contents of her flute sloshing over her cleavage, and the last three regulars are scrambling with the others to be the first to help her wipe it off. How utterly predictable, as Wingul would say. Maggot’s smile has turned into a frown now, but Presa’s whimpering apologies about her own lack of grace is enough to keep her guard down—and make the guys fall over themselves in reassurances. Only one remains now, still glued to Maggot’s arm.

_Four minutes._

He was impervious to her act, but that doesn’t stop her. She changes tactics. Stands close next to him, leans in to whisper sensually in his ear, her hand brushing discreetly against his tight. His grip on Maggot loosens, but she holds on to him. When Presa moves, he tears away from her grasp.

_Five minutes._

By the time my timer reaches five minutes, the group that was previously herding around Magdalena is encircling Presa, mesmerized by her every word, her every gesture. My half-sister stands outside of the circle, forgotten. She tries to get a few words in, but the laughter drowns her out. Defeated, enraged, she stomps toward the buffet, nearly running into Ludger on the way. No reaction. How sad.

I catch up to her, unable to resist some teasing of my own.

“Hey, Magdalena!”

Her scowl deepens when she sees me approaching. To her surprise, I embrace her with all the fake joy I can muster.

“Dear sister, it’s been so long. I’ve missed you!”

She isn’t buying it. “What do you want?”

“I was wondering where you were! I looked for the largest gathering of young men, but I couldn’t find you in their center.” The look on her face is priceless. “Going solo tonight?”

“You! … What… You… You little… Argh!” Whatever she wanted to say, it never makes it past her throat. Her ears, the only part of her head not covered in make-up, are as red as my dress.

“Are you all right?” I fake concern. “Do you need to see a doctor?” I reach out to touch her face, but she swats my hand away.

“YOU!” she shrieks. Then clears her throat when she realizes she’s drawn the gaze of everyone nearby. “Get out,” she continues in a lower voice.

“No.”

“Get. Out.” she hisses.

“No,” I repeat. “I’m having fun here.” To illustrate my point, I grab something from the nearest plate (a chicken wing, it turns out) and bite into it, my eyes never leaving hers. Mmh, that tastes good.

She sputters some more, but doesn’t dare touch me with so many people nearby. “Mother will hear about this!” she warns, scurrying away, probably to find her. We’d better destroy this dimension before midnight, or fractured me will have a nasty surprise when she comes home.

The chicken wing has opened my appetite, so I decide to stay by the buffet for now. We shouldn’t let such good food go to waste, after all. Jiao is a little further down the table, all alone. Rashugal guests seem to be staying away from that area, which suits me just fine.

“You’re not very popular,” I remark as I plop down on a chair next to him.

“I’m used to it,” he shrugs. “People tend to be intimidated by my size.”

“Comes in handy when you want to avoid people, I guess. I personally wouldn’t mind a break from all those pompous nobles.”

His gaze is fixed on me and he speaks softly. “Were they always like that?”

“Like what?”

“I heard them… talk. About you.” He frowns. “It was not very nice.”

Understatement of the century.

“If you’re wondering if they’re the reason I’m so twisted, then… Yeah, you’d be right. I didn’t have the most stable childhood, as you can see. Poor me.”

He doesn’t smile at the joke. Instead, he’s looking at me sadly. Gah, I hate it when they do that.

“I’m okay. Really.”

It’s the truth, surprisingly enough. I came here prepared to hate every minute of it, and to have to endure one of Wingul’s lectures after I’ve inevitably ruined our plan by letting my emotions run wild, but I haven’t had the urge to burn this place down again for a while now. Ever since they came in, actually.

“Hey, Jiao?” I call, suddenly struck by inspiration.

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“Of course. What do you need?”

“Well… See, there’s someone here I really, really hate. I’d like you to help me take revenge on him.”

“Agria…” He warns.

“Nothing bad!” I promise. “Just a little bit of fun. Maybe scare him a little or something.”

He looks at me intensely for what feels like an eternity, then nods. “How can I help you?” Great!

“You can order animals around, right?”

“I can communicate with them, but it’s not like I’m forcing them…”

“Whatever. I just need some animal.”

“What are you planning?” he asks, frowning.

“I just think getting attacked by animals would be a fitting punishment. They can just have a little bite, nothing bad. Oh, come on, he’s gonna disappear anyway when we find the catalyst!”

In fact, he could even be the catalyst himself. I hope so. But somehow I doubt that’s the case…

“What did that person do to you, exactly?”

“Oh, aside from the daily bullying… You know Bobo?” Nod. “He murdered his parents.” Bitter memories come back to the surface. Their lifeless bodies, wings torn in a bloody mess… I’ll never forgive him.

“Little fucker!” Jiao growls. This isn’t like him to swear, but I know he’s sensitive when it comes to animals. That’s something we have in common.

“Yeah…”

He closes his eyes and ponders for a moment, then asks, “Would bats do?”

Bats?

“Perfect.”

Jiao instructs me to lure him out to the garden, where he will be waiting. That’s honestly not a very difficult task. Celedonio always used to look for an occasion to isolate and torment me during those balls, and though he’s older and, I hope for him, more mature now, I can’t imagine he’s abandoned his favorite pastime. Finding him in the crowd is a little harder. Unlike Magdalena, who stands out no matter where she is, or Aurignac, who likes to stand by Dad and Roberta’s side to show every visitor how important he is, Celedonio is not particularly remarkable. It takes me at least ten minutes to spot him, and when I finally do, I nearly do a double take. The Celedonio in my memories was a short, pudgy boy. This one here, while still not a model of fitness, is a lot taller than I remember, and sports a mustache that makes him look ten years older. Ah, the miracles of puberty.

I catch his eye and stick out my tongue, before quickly making my way outside, where Jiao is waiting for me. Childish? Definitely. But this is sure to provoke him. And indeed, it only takes him a few minutes to appear before us, his small ugly eyes glinting maliciously. He opens his mouth, probably to insult me, but I beat him to it.

“Hey, Celedumbo. Don’t go acting all mature just because you have facial hair now. We all know you’re still a whiny piss-pants.”

Well, at least that’s how he was the last time I saw him. I have no idea how this one is now, having lived three years longer than the prime one. But who cares, insults are not supposed to be accurate anyway.

“What did you say?” he asks, his eyes narrowing.

“Ya heard me.”

“I see you didn’t learn your lesson last time.” His lips twitch upwards in an all-too-familiar cruel smirk. I ball my fists, nails digging painfully into my palms, and try hard to repress the urge to deck him in the face to twist that expression into one of agony. Jiao’s hand falls on my shoulder, heavy and warm, and the tension in my body suddenly disappears. Right, stick to the plan.

“What are you doing with him?” Celedonio points to Jiao. His voice is thick with disdain and mockery. “The little tramp’s hanging out with barbarians now? Just how low are you planning to fall? I should teach you a less—ouch!”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because at that moment a small black mass falls on his head and starts pulling his hair.

“W-What’s that? Aaaah, get it off, get it off!” he screams, flailing his arms in an attempt to dislodge it. Another one swoops down and bites his ear. He is soon surrounded by a whole swarm of them, gathered in this spot by Jiao’s beastcraft artes. The bats dive at him, sometimes lightly scratching his face on the way, sometimes stopping to nibble at his skin and suck some blood. He tries, in vain, to scare them off, but their assault is relentless.

His high-pitched shrieks of pain and fear are music to my ears, and I can’t help laughing at his predicament. How’s that, brother? Do you still think tormenting animals is fun? Oh, I should have asked Jiao to get the hunting dogs to join in. That would have been _fun_. Ha ha ha ha!

Still screaming incoherently, Celedonio runs back inside, his arms above his head to shield himself from the bitey swarm that trails after him.

Jiao calls back the bats just as Celedonio crashes into the buffet table, sending plates and cups alike to the floor in a cacophony of broken glass. People shriek, pointing at the fluttering dark cloud above their heads. Someone casts a spirit arte toward them, but they disperse before it hits, and it instead strikes the chandelier, which comes crashing down in the middle of the dance floor.

Chaos. Complete, total, beautiful chaos. Noble ladies running around, crying about their ruined dresses. Noble men shouting at each other in anger, trying to assign blame for the disruption. And, in the middle of it all, the delicious sight of my family’s horrified expressions—Roberta looks like she’s about to faint, while Aurignac is glaring daggers at Celedonio, who’s sitting on the floor weeping and blabbering about vampires. Magdalena’s clinging to Gravett, who looks like he’d like nothing more than to disappear and let them deal with the mess. Beautiful, truly beautiful. I need to burn that image into my mind so I can conjure it up any time I need a laugh.

I’m so engrossed in the spectacle that I barely register Jiao lifting me up and carrying me into an empty room, where the others seem to be waiting. Ah, I see. They must have taken advantage of the commotion to sneak around. Presa looks amused, but Wingul seems rather displeased. Uh-oh.

“Was that really necessary?”

Even his stern expression can’t put a damper on my mood. “Totally!” I think back of the scene in the ballroom and start laughing again. I wish I could have stayed longer.

Wingul sighs, accepting defeat. “This gives us an opportunity to slip out, I suppose…”

“What about the catalyst?” Jiao asks.

Ludger shook his head. “I couldn’t find it. I tried approaching as many people as possible, and definitely touched all of Agria’s siblings, but there was no reaction.”

“So this was just a waste of time…”

“No.” They all turn toward me. I’ve stopped laughing now, and my tone is dead serious. “There is a place we haven’t checked yet. The annex.”

“Is there anything or anyone there you suspect of being the catalyst?” Wingul asks. I nod in response, but don’t elaborate. I don’t want to say it out loud. I don’t even want to _think_ about it. “Very well, then,” he says, “we shall head to the annex.”

“Let’s change first,” Presa urges. “We don’t know if we’ll be able to keep those clothes when we go back to the prime dimension. I’d rather not get arrested for indecent exposure.”

Right, she’s got a point. Besides, our original clothes are better for fighting. I mean, she probably won’t mind those heels she’s wearing, but I’d rather not have to worry about tripping, myself.

  


* * *

## Act III - Family

Now more properly dressed for dimension destroying, we head out toward the annex. I really hope I’m mistaken, that the catalyst is actually elsewhere, unrelated to this place. But Ludger confirms my fears.

“I think we’re getting closer.”

I guess his Kresnik senses are tingling or something. He must be feeling the presence of the catalyst nearby. Shit.

The front door opens before we reach it, and out comes a woman I’ve never seen before. It’s dark, so I can’t see her features well, but she seems to have long hair and she’s wearing a long dress, probably fit for the bal.

“Um, hello?” Her voice is a bit high-pitched, but not unpleasant to the ear, and vaguely familiar. “May I help you?” She takes a few hesitant steps toward us, probably wondering who we are and what we’re doing there.

It’s only when she steps under the lamp that I understand why she felt familiar—and from Presa’s gasp, I’m not the only one. That _face_. Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

What is she even doing here? She wasn’t supposed to come back until tomorrow! Did she rush home after classes to attend the ball? Why would she do that when nothing good ever comes from those events?

Shit, she’s pretty. She’s beautiful. Her light brown hair flows softly in the evening breeze, a far cry from my own discolored coarse strands. Despite the flat shoes, she looks a bit taller than me. Heck, even her boobs, neatly outlined by her V-neck, look bigger than mine. And her voice is melodious, nothing like the raspy croak that usually comes out of my throat. She’s so different, so perfect…

She takes another step forward, and suddenly a flash of dark energy engulfs her. “Oh…”

Of course. I understand now. This is why none of the manor occupants reacted. The divergence, it’s not those who survived, but went on to lead the life they would have led otherwise. No. It’s the one who grew up in a different environment, and whose place in the world changed drastically as a result. Her. Me.

Weapons are drawn discreetly behind me, expecting her freak-out any moment now, in true catalyst fashion. But it never comes. She just stares at me in confusion, seemingly unaware of the dark glow she is emitting. “Why are you crying?”

It takes me a moment to figure out who she’s talking to, but sure enough, my cheeks are wet. In my back, the others are tense, immobile. Ready to act at any moment. Waiting for me to take the lead. I wipe my eyes and smile at her. “Because seeing you makes me sad.”

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammers, but I shake my head.

“It’s not your fault.”

I take her hands and walk around her, forcing her to turn with me so she’s facing the door. Toward the house in which her mother lives. Away from the sight of Ludger noiselessly transforming.

“Why come to the ball?” I ask. “You don’t even like them.”

“I thought… If I put in enough effort, my family would finally acknowledge me.”

I can’t help the snort. “You call that family?”

Her eyes leave mine to fix the ground. “They’re all I have…”

I squeeze her hands as an apology for upsetting her. She meets my gaze again.

“And you?” she asks.

“Me?”

“Do you have a family you want to make proud?”

Ludger is approaching her, slowly, silently, to avoid drawing her attention. Beyond him, Presa is giving me a sad, sweet, understanding smile. Wingul has sheathed his sword, but the hand still gripping the pommel is shaking. Jiao’s eyes are fully open, and his solemn expression looks almost comical. My next smile comes naturally.

“I do.”

Ludger’s lance pierces her heart gently, taking out the catalyst. The world breaks around us, and down, down we fall. I don’t even try to keep my balance this time.

The harsh glow of Trigleph’s spyrix lightings greets us, and relief washes over me. We’re home.

“Agria, we need to have another party like that here! It was so pretty!” Elle is bouncing around me. How does she still have energy after all that?

“You should ask Driselle,” Jiao tells her. “Elize says she has a big manor all for herself. You could help organize a big birthday party.”

“Oh yes! Ludger, can we go see Driselle? Ludger, say yes!”

“You forgot the magic word,” Presa warns her.

“Please, Ludger!”

“Maybe tomorrow. Now it’s time for bed.”

They tell us goodbye, and head away toward Ludger’s place. We should probably move back to our own home as well, but I’m finding the ground quite comfortable right now. For a while no one says anything. I’m vaguely aware their eyes are fixed on me.

Presa’s heels resound in the quiet street as she approaches me. “So…” She holds out her hand to help me stand up. “You think we’re family?”

“You heard me,” I say simply as I let her pull me up.

“Aw, so I’m like your big sister?”

“No way! You’re the grandma next door.”

I skillfully side-step the fingers aimed at my sides.

“Don’t be so cold to your sis!”

“Whatever you say, granny.” I stick out my tongue.

She comes charging at me again, but I hide behind Jiao, who laughs heartily. “Ho ho ho. You know, I would be happy to be your honorary uncle.”

“Only if you stop treating me like a kid,” I offer.

Wingul doesn’t miss a beat. “Keep acting like that, and that day may never come.”

“No one asked you, bro.”

He tilts his head, eyeing me critically. “Oh, so I am your brother now?”

“Yep. My annoying _little_ brother.”

He shuts his eyes with a sigh. “I should have seen that one coming.”

“Come on, guys,” Presa calls. She’s taken a few steps down the street toward the station. “Let’s go home. We have a report to make to _Dad_.”

Our laughs are the only noise echoing in the deserted street.

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone please look at this illustration of the scenes where Agria meets her fractured self, it's wonderful: [[link](https://suellemalen.tumblr.com/post/611324000039239680/title-chaos-in-the-ballroom-by-yume-hanabi%22)] ♥♥♥


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